Fuel and Fire
by Aeris1172
Summary: cloudzack;; When Zack ends up fired from his job, who else does he end up working for but Cloud Strife? ::multichap, AU;;
1. we're gonna go, go, go

_fuel and fire_

_**chapter one:**_

_we're gonna go, go, go…_

**a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z**

As soon as Zack Fair found himself in his boss's office, he knew he had landed himself in an unfortunate predicament. He'd been doing things on and off for the past year that could get him in trouble… Massive, inexplicable trouble that could land him without a job, and now that he was finally sitting in Mr. Shinra's office, he felt his fingers go cold and begin to tremble. He'd managed to become a favourite employee of the plump business owner, doing little things here and there like babysitting his young daughter, Ashley Gabrielle. She was in third grade, insisting she was a 'big girl' and that she was called by her full name. When Zack leaned down and ruffled her hair, he called her 'little Ash Gee' only to obtain a smack on the hand. He promptly learned to call her by Ashley Gabrielle, not leaving out a syllable or slurring the words together lazily. Within a few months of babysitting the girl, they developed an almost familial bond. She was more than happy to see his face on Wednesdays and Thursdays, dubbing him Uncle Zacky.

The door to Mr. Shinra's office swung open and in stepped Zack's boss, his full face heavy with an emotion that the boy couldn't read.

"Zackary."

"Mr. Shinra, sir." The older man nodded, grunting as he made his way to the shiny maple desk in front of Zack. The cheap old chair creaked as he sat down, lips pressed into a thin line. Zack nervously fidgeted, fingers twisting together in anxiety.

"I assume you have figured that this is not a social call," Shinra said with a sigh. Zack stayed silent. "I've let you get away with a substantial amount of things. You know that, right?" Zack nodded in reply. His boss tapped his fingers on his desk. "I've let you borrow money--"

"Which I always paid back," Zack interjected, holding up a finger to accentuate his point. Shinra glared, warning him not to speak again. Zack leaned back in his chair, silently obliging.

"You've broken into your office _multiple_ times…" Zack sat up, opening his mouth to say something again, only to receive another pointed glare. He pressed his lips together and looked down at his knees. "And Zackary, these are only things that are coming immediately to mind. I could have filled up an entire marble composition notebook of things I have let you get away with. Understand?"

"Er. Yes, sir."

Shinra looked as if he were in pain. "However, this time you have absolutely crossed the line." Zack raised a brow, conveying his confusion. "I'm sure you know what I am speaking of, Mr. Fair."

Zack felt his stomach drop. His boss never called him Mr. Fair.

"I can assure you I don't," he exclaimed carefully, scooting to the end of his seat, face stony. "Is this about that coffee incident last week? Because that one was Cid's fault, honest--"

"No. This has nothing to do with the coffee, Zackary. This has to do with a complaint filed by Scarlet earlier this week."

Zack frowned.

"Scarlet? What'd she say?"

Shinra eyed Zack carefully, searching for any sign of guilt.

"Scarlet," he began. It took him a moment. "She's filed a claim that you have…"

"Yes? What?" Zack said anxiously, leaning forwards, eyes widening. Shinra dropped his head.

"That you have sexually harassed her."

Suddenly, it felt like someone had punched Zack in the stomach. He lost his ability to breathe for a few seconds, blinking in disbelief as he stared at the top of his boss's balding head.

"I'm sorry, Zackary, but--"

"Hold on," Zack said, barely audible, holding up a single finger. "Scarlet filed that claim?" Shinra brought his head up, nodding.

"And we have a witness."

Zack's eyes narrowed.

"Who?" Shinra steeled his expression, crossing his hands on his desk.

"My son saw the incident," he stated in a simple matter-of-fact way. Zack felt his eye twitch.

"E-ex_cuse_ me?"

"Yes, Zackary. Rufus walked in with the girl the day that it happened. She was absolutely _terrified_."

There was a long pause and behind the opposite side of the desk, Zack's fists clenched in anger. Rufus had joined in a devious plan with Scarlet to get him fired. No wonder the Blonde-tard duo had been so inexplicably _giddy_ all week. Somewhere inside of him, a smirk tried to force its way to his lips. If only Rufus knew how many times Scarlet had basically molested Zack.

"Is there direct evidence to support this supposed claim?" Zack inquired, raising a brow. "I know you keep cameras in the office ever since that Sparky kid peed in the water cooler."

With a shudder (probably from the memory of being the only one to fall for the sticky note plastered on the cooler that said 'lemonade'), Shinra spoke, "there is no camera in your office, Zackary."

Zack's shoulders dropped. _Sneaky bastards!_ They'd planned it out flawlessly.

"Sir, no offense meant, but have you perhaps taken into account that Rufus is Scarlet's bitch – excuse me, rather, boyfriend, and that he would believe most of anything she said?"

"Yes, I have taken into account many things in this situation, such as the fact that Rufus is my son and I could get a lot of _shit_ for believing him," Shinra said, his voice sharp. Zack took this as a 'shut up'.

He frowned.

"Zackary, this claim is serious. I'm afraid that this has crossed the line as I stated earlier."

"…and?" Zack pressed.

Shinra sighed. "Zackary, you know you're one of my favourite employees. _Everyone_ in the office knows that. Even Rufus does and I am quite sure that it does not please him to know I prefer your office work to his. However, even favourite employees do not have special privileges to avoid claims of _this_ magnitude."

"But Mr. Shinra--" He began, trying not to let his anger show.

"Zackary! Stop! I will not listen to protest and I will not have you argue with my superior's decision. Do you not think I have tried the same thing? I sat with my superiors for an _hour and a half_ trying to convince them to give you another chance! It was useless."

"Why didn't you--"

"_No_! Zackary, stop!" Shinra roared, slamming one of his large hands on the desk, causing it to shudder. "There isn't a damn thing I can do! They want you out of this office! Today!" Zack felt his stomach bubble with rage.

"Fine! For all I care, your superiors can rot in hell! So can your damned scheming son!" Zack cried, pushing his chair back. "I…I hope somebody pees in the water cooler again!" With that, Zack turned on his heel, tripping over the chair as he stormed out of his boss's office. He skittered to a halt however and turned around, poking his head back in, pointing one solitary finger at Shinra. "You were a good boss though! That's about the only redeeming quality about this entire escapade!" Zack waved his finger a bit, then looked at it awkwardly before disappearing from Shinra's office once more.

He strode down the hall, taking large steps and pushing past someone holding a stack of papers. He nearly fell over, hands grabbing at the papers that flew askew when Zack bumped into him. His coffee splashed to the floor, splattering all over the fallen papers. The man squeaked.

"NO! THE CULLEN-SWAN REPORT! OHGOD!" Zack ignored the gasping employee who fell to his knees in angst in front of the coffee-stained Cullen-Swan report.

Zack threw open the door to his office, only to see Rufus sitting on his desk, playing with a small trinket that Zack had gotten from his ex-girlfriend.

"What the hell are you doing in here, Shinra? Get out," Zack hissed. Rufus dropped the object carelessly beside the desktop computer.

"I've come to see the look on your face when my dear father fired your pathetic ass," Rufus said nonchalantly. "Whatever else?"

"Rufus, I swear to fucking _Gaia_ if you do not get out of my office, you are going to rue the day you met me."

"Am I supposed to be scared? What was it like to be accused of something you didn't do, hmm?"

"Shinra. Get the hell out, right now," Zack said, clenching his fists. "I'm not in the mood for your skinny blond ass being a douche. Clear out while I clean my shit and leave."

"Oh, but it would be so much more fun to watch you pack in your misery," Rufus said, tapping one finger against his chin. Zack snapped.

"SHINRA. Get out or I _will_ rape your girlfriend!"

Rufus's eye twitched noticeably at the thought of Zack's grimy hands on his Scarlet. Despite the minor shock and disgust at Zack's verbal threats, he smirked. "Really, now? Asking for another formal complaint, are we?"

Zack stepped forward, his eyes blazing. "You better get prepared for two more, cause you're 'bout to have a foot up your ass if you don't get out of my office."

"Is that a challenge?" Rufus inquired, standing and cracking his pale knuckles.

"Maybe it is, mother fu--"

Before Zack could finish his sentence, another man entered the room, banging the door loudly against the wall as he slammed into it. Zack snapped his attention to the new occupant of his office. It was Cid.

"Hoo, man, I thought I heard some kinda shit 'bout your ass gettin' fired! Ain't true, right?" Cid inquired. Before he could get an answer, he looked over at Rufus. "'Ey, what's this douchebag doin' in here?"

"He was just _leaving_," Zack growled. Rufus put down his arms, his eyes glinting again.

"Actually, I was here to give my condolen--"

"Yeeeeah, whatever blondie, git yer ass outta Zack's office," Cid interrupted, his voice demanding. He pointed his thumb behind him. Rufus stood in silence for a moment, then looked at the two before pulling his chin up and walking out, making sure to shove past Zack's shoulder on the way. The two watched the blond walk out.

"Son of a--!"

Zack promptly kicked the chair in front of his desk.

**a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z**

Cid slammed his hand on the bar.

"Two more shots!" He yelled. The bartender looked up at glared at him.

"No need to yell, buddy, ain't nobody in here," he said, looking around the deserted bar.

"Wh'ever. Jus' gimme two more," Cid repeated, waving his hand around at his and Zack's empty shot glasses. Around Cid, there were around ten, and Zack? A good twenty. He grumbled in response, his head on the bar, blinking slowly. His mood had plummeted drastically. He had gone from full of rage to drunk and miserable. It wasn't pleasant but seeing double at least kept him a little entertained.

Zack brought up a finger and held it in front of his one open eye.

"Y'know… If I'd been drunker, ther'da been two'a Shinra an' I'da been able ta kick boff'a dere asses… Woulda been twice as satisfyin', y'know?" Zack slurred, entranced by his one finger magically transforming into two.

"Mhm. Know whatcha mean. An' if you was wit' a girl… she'd 'ave four tits 'stead o' two... Tha' always trips me ou'."

"Tha'd shure be a lil' bit weird," Zack mumbled, rubbing his eyes. The bartender disappeared for a second, and brought up a bottle of tequila, glancing at the two drunks sitting miserably at the bar. He narrowed his eyes at them and filled two more shotglasses.

"Ahhh, 'ere we go," Cid said, reaching forwards, nearly missing the shotglass and sloshing it into the bartender. Once he finally managed to grab it, he threw it back, swallowing it all gleefully. He set it back down on the table and let out a content sigh, looking up at the bartender.

"Wha?"

"I'm not callin' you guys a cab, that's all I'm saying," the man said with a shrug.

Zack downed the shot, not even bothered by the taste anymore. He looked over at Cid.

"Hey."

"Wha?"

"Wha'dya think I should do 'bout the job?" Zack asked. Cid shrugged.

"Try the classifieds. Tha's where I fin' my shi'."

Zack managed to raise a brow. "Shit?"

"…Chicks."

"Cid, chicks aren' the same as jobs," he said.

"Wha – y'think I don' know tha'? If it supplies girls, it gotta supply jobs, 'eah?" Cid said. Zack grumbled.

"Guess so," he conceded. "Ey, Cid. Can y'take me home?"

Cid looked over at him wearily. "Eh. Guess so. Yer ass is more drunk tha' mine." He stood up from the stool. "How much tha' gon' be?"

The bartender glared.

"Eighty bucks."

"Wha--?! Y'fuckin' kiddin' me?"

"I don't make the prices."

"Good, cause if ya did, I'd kick yer ass… Eighty fuckin' dollars… Pu' it on m'tab!" Cid exclaimed, slamming his hand on the bar again.

"Certainly, if you stop slapping the bar like you're angry at it."

"Wh'ever… Less go, Zack," he slurred, grabbing Zack by the shirt and pulling him off the barstool. Zack yelped and stood up as best as he could. "Ho, boy, yer real drunk, aren'ya? Where'dya live 'gain?"

Zack looked at him like he was crazy.

"I'm your neighbor…"

**a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z**

**AN: **OH MY GAWD I WROTE SOMETHING?! Okay, so it's only like seven pages, but it's the first chapter! You guys are fuckin' excited, right? Haha, yeah I know you are. Anywho… Reviews are lovely, lovely, lovely… And second chapter shall be up eventually. I also want to thank** Kaltmr** for being beta-y.

Till next chapter!


	2. a closing skyline

_fuel and fire_

_**chapter two:**__  
a closing skyline_

**a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z**

Zack had never woken up with a horrible hangover in his life. He'd always been one to hold his liquor extremely well and wake up the next morning chipper and bright while his friends glared at him with their bloodshot eyes. However, this time it was different. He'd fluttered into consciousness because of a strange noise. When he opened his eyes, his head was assaulted with a violent and painful throb. He cried out and snuggled his face back into the pillow. The throbs did not stop. To Zack's misfortune, he could not keep his face pressed against the soft feather pillow, for it was soaked with saliva. He pulled away drowsily, waiting for his eyesight to focus. There was a large wet spot of spit. He mumbled and gracelessly stuffed a hand into his pocket, searching for his cell phone, which he assumed was making the noise. Indeed it was, for the moment his fingers touched the electronic device, he felt the vibrations. Struggling, he pulled it out of his pocket and pressed the talk button as fast as he could, trying incredibly hard to silence the music he'd set as his ringtone.

"Hullo," he grumbled, voice scratchy.

"Wow, man, you sound like _hell_," a voice came from the other line. Zack mumbled something incoherently and flipped over his pillow, pressing his face into the feathers again. "Do you feel the same?"

"Twenty four," Zack grumbled against the cotton of the pillow case.

"Damn. Sorry 'ere man."

"I can only say one thing," Zack told him.

"Whazzat?"

"I'm _never_ drinking with you again."

**a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z**

One shower, three cups of coffee and three aspirins later, Zack felt his headache dull. Unfortunately, since his head no longer throbbed, he could concentrate on the nausea churning in his stomach. He grabbed a sleeve of saltines out of the cabinet. He paused. A little peanut butter couldn't hurt, so he grabbed that as well. He was not trustworthy of his peanut-butter spreading skills due to the fact that he was still a little bit drunk.

Shuffling to the couch, he fought with the top of the peanut butter, attempting to twist it open. However, with a sleeve of saltines in his arms as well, he found it incredibly difficult. He slowly sat on the black pleather sofa, sighing when he finally got open the jar of peanut butter. He hastily took a saltine and shoved it into the jar, attempting to scoop up some of the substance. It merely broke in half. He frowned and tried again. The same thing happened. Seventeen and a half tries later, he set the saltine encrusted peanut butter on the table and looked at it for a moment.

He stood again, walking back into the kitchen to retrieve a spoon and shovel out some peanut butter. When he got the spoon, he stuffed it into his mouth, striding back to the couch. He felt almost heroic…at least, until he sat down. Upon throwing himself back onto the couch, he heard the crunch-crunch-crunch of the saltines beneath him. He sat in silence for a second, pondering why God hated him so much. He then took the spoon out of his mouth and threw it on the floor, grumbling.

Zack figured since he lacked the ability to use a spoon or interact with peanut butter and saltines at all, it would probably be a better idea to try a more daily and routine task, such as changing his clothes. He stood from the couch, careful not to step on the spoon he so lazily discarded. Walking up the stairs was no challenge. He shuffled into his room and over to his closet, and stared blankly into the abyss of clothing. He didn't plan on going anywhere today, except maybe the hospital from injuring himself in some careless accident, so he really had no reason to change. He figured he could at least change his boxers though. He walked away from the neatly organized closet to his dresser and opened the top left drawer, pulling out a pair of plaid boxers. Closing the drawer with his elbow, he turned and threw them on the bed.

Five minutes later, Zack still had not managed to change his boxers. He had fought a war with his pajama pants and managed to tie the strings around his digits, cutting off circulation to his fingertips. He frowned and then tried to yank them down mercilessly, causing him to lose his balance and faceplant onto the bed. He gave up after that.

It was just not his day.

Suddenly, his cell phone rang once again, jolting him out of his momentary self-loathing. He reached over lazily to the nightstand and answered it without looking at the caller ID.

"Drunk and Dumb, how may I help you?" He said sarcastically.

"Zackary, dear?"

Zack frowned. Again, it was not his day. "Hi, mom."

"How are you today? What are you up to? It certainly has been a while since we've spoken," his mother said.

"I was having a boxing match with my boxers…. Ha, that's funny."

There was a long silence.

"…What? Zacky, are you okay?" She inquired gently. Zack sighed.

"Yes, mother, I'm fine. I'm just… having difficulties today. How are you?"

"Worried about you, my little Zacky, honestly. A man called here earlier today and told me that you had been fired from your job with Shinra Inc.!"

Zack had the urge to roll over onto his bed and smother himself.

"Yes."

"You were? Oh, dear… He told me it was because you'd been watching child porn on the company connections… I'm very worried."

Zack snorted.

"Hardly. No, mother, I was fired under false accusations. My job's termination had absolutely nothing to do with child porn, I can assure you," he told her.

"Oh, I didn't think it was true, hon. I knew you didn't have that bad in you."

"Yeah, so, uh, who called you and told you that?" Zack inquired. He really didn't need the answer from his mother, because he already knew that it was –

"Rufus Shinra."

Yep.

"Yeah, Rufus is a child molester… I guess he was looking in the mirror when he accused me of that."

"Zackary!"

"Sorry, mom."

She sighed.

"Actually, I was getting ready to start looking for a job before you called," Zack admitted… minus the boxer-war.

"Zacky, you know you're always welcome if you ever need to move back in… I can always fix up a job for you."

Zack snorted. "Yes, I would absolutely love to work at the pottery barn with you. I do love me some pottery." His mother merely sighed in agitation once more. "I'm sorry. I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine right now, alright?"

"Alright. Call if you ever need anything. You know I'm here for you, hon."

"Yes, mother. I will speak with you later."

"Okay, Zacky. I love you."

"Love you too," he said. "Bye."

Zack quickly hung up the phone before his mother had a chance to break into a last minute conversation, which she always did. He stood up to go back downstairs, where the newspaper sat on the coffee table. He took a step.

…and fell.

He cursed. "Pants!"

**a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z**

"There's necessary physical criteria? …What? …No, I saw the ad in the paper… Wait, you're a _what_? …Oh, no, no, no, I ju—no, I'm sorry, I didn't meant to offend y-- … hello? Hello?!" Zack pressed the end button on his phone and buried his face in his hands. He'd been at the job search for hours and the only two that had been available were a male prostitute and some job in which he had to dress up like a hot dog. Neither were appealing, for he had no urge to be infected with an incurable disease nor swelter in the heat of a weenie suit. He furrowed his brows and grabbed his phone again, searching through the contacts. When he found the appropriate number, he called. It merely rang twice.

"Cidney Highwind, how may I help you?"

"…Your name is fucking Cidney?"

"Wha—dammit, Zack! It's an ambiguous name!"

"Cidney is _not_ ambiguous."

"Okay, y'know what, shut up. Whaddya want?"

"You got any good jobs to suggest?" Zack inquired.

"Actually," Cid began. Zack heard the shuffling of some papers.

"Ah ha! Aight, here's one. Got pen an' paper?"

**a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z**

Zack stood in front of a large house, large enough in fact for a family of four. He looked down at the scrap of paper with the address written on it.

_726 Manson Dr._

He looked up at the numbers on the side of the house. It read seven-twenty-six. He took a hesitant step forward. And raised his hand to knock.

"_This guy needs mechanical help all the time. Cars, trucks, boats, whatever else you can fuckin' think of. I worked for 'im for a while, till I apparently looked at his girl wrong or some kinda shit like that… whatever. Son of a bitch pays good, and I know you need it."_

"_You looked at his girlfriend wrong?"_

"_Hey… She was hot. I couldn't help it. You'll completely understand once ya see 'er."_

"_Thanks Cid."_

"_Yeah, don't mention it."_

The door swung open to reveal a woman with long, rich brown hair. Zack was almost taken aback by her beauty. She blinked at him, wine red eyes curious.

"Yes?" She asked, her voice like silk.

"Oh, um, I'm here for the car job," Zack said. "I'm Zackary Fair." She smiled.

"Alright. Cloud's been expecting you. My name is Tifa," she told him. "Come in." He grinned in response, stepping into the house. He looked around, surprised by the welcoming feel of the house. Homes that nice usually had icy and unfriendly feelings to them, over furnished with incredibly expensive furniture that was usually tacky beyond belief. However, when he stepped into the small hallway, he was greeted with the smell of some kind of Italian food. He inhaled and then looked to the woman in front of him.

She smiled. "It's pizzoccheri, Italian, in case you didn't know. We just had lunch. Would you like some?"

Zack's stomach grumbled and he felt his cheeks flush.

Tifa laughed, and it sounded like absolute music.

"If it's not too much trouble," Zack said in embarrassment, scratching the back of his neck.

"Of course. Come with me, Cloud's in the kitchen," she said before stepping forwards. When Zack knew she was absolutely certainly positively facing away from him, he looked around shiftily for human presence or cameras and let himself take a look at Tifa from behind. He tried not to chuckle and melt into a puddle of perversion. Before he knew it, she disappeared around the corner. He quickly followed and was greeted by the sight of a large kitchen and a marble bar wrapped around shiny countertops of the same composition. At the far end sat a slender blond man, stabbing at some pasta on a plate, which Zack guessed was pizzoccheri.

"Hey, Cloud, Zack's here," Tifa said, walking over to the stove. Cloud looked up at her, then over to Zack. Suddenly, he felt like shrinking away into a dark abysmal hole somewhere. Cloud's clear blue eyes pierced through him, making him feel almost guilty for looking at Tifa in the wrong way. Zack shuddered against his will. However, after another second, Cloud's expression brightened and his lips curled up.

"Hello," he said. "Come have a seat."

Cloud's warm attitude made Zack's apprehension (and slight fear of the blond) disappear. Zack obliged and walked in silence, sitting on the stool next to Cloud. The man stuck his hand out and Zack took it.

"I'm Cloud Strife."

"So I figured. Zack Fair." He gave Cloud a grin. For a moment, Cloud inspected his face, almost searching for something. He then turned back to his plate and picked up the silver fork, twisting the flat noodles around it. He nodded to Tifa.

"She's Tifa."

She turned from the stove and smiled. "Hi there, we met of course." Zack nodded to her and then looked again at Cloud's plate.

"So. What's in that stuff?" He asked without thinking. Cloud stopped, mid-slurp of a noodle and cast his eyes to Zack.

"The pizzoccheri?" He asked after swallowing a noodle.

"Yeah," he said. "Tifa told me it was Italian."

"Heaven, honestly. That's about the only ingredient," Cloud said, pointing his fork at Zack. Tifa laughed and turned around, giving Zack a plate of the pasta-like food.

"Really, though? The noodles are made with flour and water, and the sauce has cabbage, potatoes, garlic, all kinds of stuff in it," Tifa informed him.

Zack stared at the food for a moment, then promptly took a bite, swallowing almost a bit too much and ended up with butter all over his chin. _Nice way to make an appeal to your new employer. Smooth, Fair._

"Uh, could I have a napkin?" He asked. Tifa handed him one.

"Gotcha covered."

He swallowed another, smaller, bite. "Wow. That's really good. You're a really good cook," Zack complimented. Tifa laughed.

"Oh, no, I didn't make it."

Cloud glanced over to Zack. "I did."

**a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z**

After the two had finished their food, Tifa washed the dishes and then disappeared somewhere in the extravagant household. That left the two men alone together. Awkwardly as well, Zack thought.

"So, Zack, have you ever worked on a car before?" Cloud inquired. Zack nodded.

"Yep. Always used to work on my dad's cars and stuff when they broke. He always said I should've been an auto-mechanic, but I ended up working on a stiff office job."

Cloud ignored the last part. "Would you like to see the car you'll be working on for me?"

Zack immediately perked up. "Definitely." Cloud grinned at him and hopped off the barstool, shuffling over to the far side of the kitchen and opening a door.

"Shall we?" He said.

"We shall," Zack replied, standing up and anxiously shuffling over to the door, walking through and suddenly… he was in the garage. How handy.

"Well, she's right under here," Cloud said, pointing to the shape of a car under a canvas overthrow. By the shape of it, Zack could immediately tell that it certainly wasn't a modern car. He swallowed and took a few steps towards it, unsure of what would be underneath. Would it be horrible? Cloud joined him, and grinned when Zack's fingers slid across the canvas cover.

"Ready?"

Zack merely nodded. Quickly, Cloud pulled off the cover and all Zack could do was gawk.

"It's a--"

"Sixty-two Chevy Impala convertible. Damn."

Cloud grinned. "You know your cars."

"Hell, yeah. This is my favourite car _ever_. How'd you get her?" Zack inquired, his green eyes running over the chipped and dulled black paint job of the Chevy.

"Bought her off of one of my clients, who needed to pay for some debts. It's not like he could've afforded to get her fixed anyway."

"Clients?" Zack repeated, looking up at Cloud, who stood beside him. "What do you do?"

"I run a law firm," Cloud told him.

Zack nodded. _Ah. Makes sense. Now I understand how he's so rich._

"Though I run a business, I've got to say I know little to nothing about cars. Especially old ones like this," Cloud said, looking down at the chipped black paint. "I don't expect you to do a paint job on her, just generally repair her." Zack nodded, walking around to the very front of the car. The chrome silver of the front bumper had faded drastically, leaving it an almost pitiful shade of grey. He kneeled down in front of it, rubbing his thumb across a spot that was particularly dulled.

"So, uh," he began, ducking his head down and looking under the car. "She don't look half bad under here. 'Cept for this one little thing," he mumbled, reaching forwards, dropping to his knees and pushing his head under.

"Yeah, it's got actually quite a few little issues."

Zack hummed in agreement and looked to the best of his ability without light.

"You got a flashlight I can borrow real quick?" He inquired. He heard Cloud shuffle away, rummaging through a mass of objects, then returned, dropping to his knees beside Zack and pushing the flashlight towards him. "Thanks."

When the light flickered on, he saw how incredibly rusty the parts were. His face twisted into a grimace and he groaned. It wasn't gonna be an easy job. At least he had Tifa to entertain him. What the hell was her role in the house anyway?

"Hey, is Tifa your maid or something?" He blurted. Cloud laughed, hard. Zack stayed stationary, waiting for the fit to pass.

"Oh, that's a new one," Cloud said. "No, she's my girlfriend."

"_What_?!" Zack screeched, pulling his head up, slamming his forehead against the metal.

_Oh. Oh, god. There go my hot thoughts about Tifa._

Zack whined both in pain and disappointment.

**a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z**

"My life sucks," Zack mumbled. There was a roar from the other end of the phone.

"Suck? You don't know suck 'til you're livin' in a box in the slums, y'idiot! Don't know suck 'til ya get an STD from a hooker. Don't know suck 'til--"

"_I get it_," Zack cried. "Jesus, Cid, I didn't wanna hear about your homeless and disease filled adventures of the past…"

"Hey, I didn't even go into detail. And I ain't gotta single disease!"

"Sure."

Cid growled on the other end of the phone.

"So, what happened at Strife's house? D'ya eyefuck Tifa?"

Zack winced at the even vague memory of Cloud's girlfriend. He shifted on his bed uncomfortably, fingering the seam of his comforter.

"Can we not talk about Tifa? My head already hurts enough," Zack complained, closing his eyes and throwing himself backwards. "I busted my head on the underside of the car when I found out it was Cloud's girl." He pressed the ice pack to his head where he was pretty sure there was a nasty bump forming.

"Hehehe, oh." Cid coughed. "Uh, sorry. How's the job though?"

The dark-haired man sighed and began explaining the rules set by Cloud. No smoking, don't mess with Tifa, stay in the garage and don't be a creeper. It was all basic enough. Zack wouldn't have a hard time, minus the whole Tifa thing. She was a little bit too delicious not to eye. Cloud and Zack had decided on making a schedule over the phone for each week which was good. Zack had explained that he was more than flexible with his schedule, but did not mention the whole 'firing' thing. Luckily, Cloud hadn't inquired, so there really wasn't any need to bring it up.

"Well now ya know what I was talkin' bout with me gettin' fired cause 'a me looking at Tifa. _Daaamn,_ she is so fine. At least you get to look at that ass, yeah?" Cid rambled.

"Not unless I want a wrench thrown at my face, dude," Zack retorted.

Cid grumbled.

"I got another call comin' in – think it's my ma."

Zack snorted. "Your mom's still alive? What is she, a hundred and thirty?"

"_Watch_ it, Fair! Don't go talking about my--"

"I was insulting _you _and your _age_, Cid. Not your mother," Zack said, rubbing a hand against the side of his face.

"If my ma wasn't--" Cid was cut off momentarily. "Fuck you, Fair, I'm talkin' to my ma."

"Right. See you."

"Have nice dreams about Tifa's sweeeet, tight little--"

Zack pressed the _talk_ button as quickly as he could.

**a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z**

**AN:** WHOO. Sorry it took so long to get that out. I had written most of it already but lagged on the ending, I didn't have anything really good. I'll try and write more, but only if you bitches review! I'm just kidding – you're not bitches – I LOVE YOU PLEASE REVIEW?

- Aeris


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